What If?: Drunken Decisions
by Darling Pretty
Summary: The day she realizes that she's getting divorced, Addison does some serious drinking. But instead of using Mark as a transcontinental booty call, she sleeps with a man who is just as wildly inappropriate, and incredibly attractive, as Mark. Addison/Alex.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so this is another What If? oneshot, only this one's a twoshot only because I really like the way this little intro pans out. This all based around the idea of Addison not _needing _the transcontinental booty call because, well, there's someone else to have sex with much closer to home. Enjoy!**

**I own nothing.**

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There are very few things that could convince Addison Forbes Montgomery (soon-to-be-ex) Shepherd that she needs to get out of bed ever again. Her marriage has fallen apart, her husband is in love with someone else, she's living in a hotel, and she's completely hung-over. Her head is pounding, her mouth doesn't feel like she can open it, and she thinks that even if she were to succeed in opening her mouth all she would accomplish is hurling all over the floor.

Slowly, she pries her eyes open, hoping her head won't explode. She groans. And then she turns over and decides to die.

There are very few things that could convince Addison Forbes Montgomery (soon-to-be-ex) Shepherd that she needs to get out of bed ever again. A naked Alex Karev sleeping in said bed is definitely one of them.

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**I'm almost done with the rest of the story, so I'll post that tomorrow if I have time (and shall we say a couple of reviews, just because I'm greedy?). Thanks for reading!**

**-Juli-**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, thanks for the reviews! The fact that I could get them on such a short chapter is a serious ego boost! Plus, it makes me happy that I'm not the only Addison/Alex fan alive. Sometimes... Okay, well, anyways. This may not be the tomorrow promised for some of you, but it's tomorrow for me, so it counts. I don't think that made any sense. Give me a break, I've been working on homework and writing for the past six hours. Moving on...**

**Three things: 1. I redid my profile and I think it's kind of funny and worth reading, so if you're procrastinating on something, there's something to do. 2. (this only pertains to Gigi) GET SOME SLEEP! You're sick and you need your rest. 3. I own absolutely nothing. I even stole lines from Grey's just because I felt like it.**

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"Wake up!"she hisses. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" She then proceeds to hit him with a pillow.

"Are you _always _this loud in the morning?" he groans as he sits up. He looks over at her and smirks when he notices that the beating he just took with a pillow has managed to make her forget to keep a firm hold on the sheet.

She notices and yanks the sheet up, pulling it with her as she stands up. "You need to leave."

"Like this? You really want me leaving like this?" he asks sarcastically.

She glances around frantically and locates his boxers. She tosses them at his head while simultaneously kicking her bra under the bed. Then she thinks about how stupid and immature that was. Not like he hadn't seen it last night. That thought makes her want to slam her head against the wall until she blacks out.

Quickly she finds his shirt and jeans and throws them at him too. "Okay, you're presentable. Now get out."

His eyes are laughing at her. "Really? It was that bad for you? Because that's not the tune you were singing last night."

Her head snaps to look at him. "You _remember _last night?" she asks suspiciously. Because she has absolutely no recollection. And if he wasn't drunk…

"Relax, Addison. I was as drunk as you were. Well, maybe not _as _drunk, but I was close. I don't remember anything. It was a joke. A failed one, obviously."

"It wasn't funny," she says seriously. His eyes laugh at her again.

"I'll see you at work," he grins. She frowns in confusion. "My ass is yours until you say otherwise, remember?" he smirks. Maybe he can get off the gynie squad because of this.

"Get out," Addison orders, rolling her eyes.

0ooo0

She refuses to look at him at work. She doesn't let him off her service, but she won't look at him. It takes a seriously skilled avoider to manage that.

She tries to catch a nap in one of the on call rooms. She's exhausted, which isn't surprising, considering she got almost no sleep last night. She manages to fall asleep, but she's plagued by a dream that she dreads is a memory.

"_Dude, what are you wearing?' he asks, as he sits down at the bar, taking in her sweat suit and bucket hat._

"_Oh this? This is just my drinking outfit," she slurs. He grins when she practically falls off her stool. "Because I'm feeling the need to do some serious drinking. Actually, I'm feeling the need to do some serious crying, but my tear ducts are too proud, so I'm drinking instead." _

"_Joe, grab me a beer," he calls, leading Addison to a safer chair. At least now if she falls, it's not that far to the ground. "You're drunk," he informs her._

"_Isn't it wonderful?" she asks, not even bothering to deny it. He's impressed she can still use words like wonderful. She rubs her nose and looks at him. "Did you hear about the slutty sex your slutty friend had with my _super_ slutty husband?"_

"_You had an affair," he points out._

"_But _I _didn't put slutty panties in my slutty, slutty jacket. Who does that? I mean, really?"_

"_He walked in on you in the act." Alex doesn't really know why he's dragging up all these things that are sure to hurt her. The closest he can figure is that he feels like he should defend Meredith in her absence._

"_But there were never any slutty panties involved. Except mine, which were ruined anyways."_

_He practically spits out the swig of beer he had just taken._

"_Oh, was I not supposed to say that?" Addison laughs. "See, the thing is I hadn't had sex in a reeeeeeeally long time and Mark…. Mark is sexy. Mark is reeeeeeeally sexy."_

_He holds up a hand. "Don't need to know that."_

"_What? You don't want to picture me having sex? Because I've had sex. I've had lots and lots and lots of sex. I'm desirable, you know?"_

_He nods, grinning from ear to ear._

"_See, you think so!" she exclaims. "You think I'm hot. I'm hot, right? So how come my husband's in love with somebody way younger than me? And I mean she's kind of a stick. I mean really, she's all… pointy! Isn't he scared to cut himself on her elbows or something? And she's twelve. And she doesn't even have a real hair color! I mean, what is it? It's not blonde, it's not brunette, it's not anything! It's like the transvestite of hair colors! Pick a side and stick to it! Seriously." She nods definitively._

_He would step in to defend Meredith, but at this point he's just trying not to laugh too loudly._

"_Can I tell you a secret?" she asks suddenly._

_He nods. She motions him closer, and leans in to meet him. He can smell the alcohol on her breath. She laughs and motions him even closer. "I think…" she trails off._

"_You think?" he says, waiting for the continuation._

"_I think I've wanted to sleep with you for like a month now. I think that you're reeeeeeeally, reeeeeeeally sexy. Like, beyond Mark Sloan sexy. Shh! don't tell anybody," she giggles. Her lips brush softly against his ear as she raises a finger to them in the universal "shh" sign._

"_Really?" he laughs._

"_Really," she nods. "But you can't tell anybody. It's a secret."_

"_Not so secret now," he points out._

"_Not my problem," she replies with a shrug._

"_If I tell someone it'll be bad for you."_

"_So don't tell anybody."_

Waking up, she groans. Of all the freaking people in the stupid city, she had to go and tell _him_ that she's lusting after him. As if his ego needed the boosting. All she can hope for now is that he doesn't remember it.

0ooo0

Usually he wouldn't care that she won't look at him. Usually he'd be glad that she seems content to forget that their one night stand ever happened. Usually he'd be the one avoiding her. But there is nothing usual about Addison.

This time he _does _care that she won't look at him. This time he's mad that she seems content to forget that their one night stand ever happened. This time he's the one chasing her. Yep, there is nothing usual about Addison.

He doesn't want to resort to it, but when she starts to try to run from him yet again, he grabs her arm and yanks her close enough to whisper, "Don't make me announce what happened last night."

He feels her tense up and a wave of guilt washes over him. He shoves it aside. Blackmail is the only way to get her to listen to him. She'll only keep running if he lets her. He leads her into a supply closet. She follows docilely. He knows it's only so she can avoid embarrassment.

"What?" she snaps when the door is closed.

"You're my teacher," he starts. "You're my teacher and you're not teaching. You're avoiding. And I'm sick of it. Stop avoiding me and start teaching. Or let me off your service. I don't really care which. I just don't want one mistake screwing up the rest of my internship, okay? It happened, but nobody says it has to happen again."

"Okay," she agrees quickly, with a sigh of relief.

He almost wishes that it had taken her longer to agree.

0ooo0

"On a scale of one to ten, Mrs. Faulkner, how bad is the pain?" Addison asks, examining their patient.

It's been two weeks now since that awful, horrible event that she's not thinking about. She and Alex have managed to work out some sort of weird truce. He's not always a total ass to her and she's not always determined to make his life miserable. It's a system that works.

"Five," Mrs. Faulkner moans.

"Okay, I'll be back in ten minutes to check on you," Addison says and strides out of the room with a reassuring smile.

Alex follows behind her. He's practically caught up when she stops dead and flattens her body against a wall. He's confused, but then he peers around the corner and sees Meredith and Derek laughing and flirting. Without thinking, he gently grabs her arm and leads her into the nearest linen closet. She's practically catatonic.

With the door closed, she leans against the shelves, resting her head against the second tallest one.

"On a scale of one to ten," he says quietly, coming to stand beside her, "how bad is it?"

"Ten," she whispers as the first tears fall. "It's always ten."

She feels his hand brush against hers. Neither of them actually moves the rest of their bodies, but their pinkies end up intertwined as they rest their chins on the shelf and stare at the wall.

0ooo0

She's embarrassed after that last incident too. He's starting to think the woman would be embarrassed for looking at someone the wrong way. And she's ignoring him again. Well, that's what he gets for attempting to be nice to the women he sleeps with. And people wonder why he's a jackass.

For reasons not even he can explain, he decides that instead of freaking her out by dragging her into yet another closet and yelling at her to teach him, he's just going to show her that he's not about to go screaming that they slept together. Okay, so maybe he's kind of watching out for her. Well, somebody has to.

The only problem is that he's not exactly sure how to say that without flat out telling her. And then he realizes that she doesn't need to know that he's looking out for her. The woman just deserves to smile.

So he stops being a pain in the ass. He does what she asks, sometimes before she asks it. That's not to say he stops giving her a hard time, because that would be completely suspicious. But he's found something surprising about himself now—he can actually control what he says. When she's in a bad mood, he doesn't _have _to say the one thing he knows will piss her off.

It might be sad, but he can actually tell how her day is going just by looking at her. Addison is completely counterintuitive. If she comes in with her hair down and in a dress that looks like she just grabbed it out of her closet, it's a good day. If she looks like she put more than half an hour into her appearance then she hasn't had a good morning. When she looks like that, he's careful to do what she asks, because if he doesn't, he knows she'll take her insecurities out on him.

He doesn't know why he cares so much, and he tries to ignore the caring thing as much as possible. He doesn't want to deal with those thoughts.

0ooo0

She spent an hour getting ready this morning, not including the shower and clothes. It hurts today. Today she's working on a second-to-second basis.

She has a headache. A really bad headache. She woke up and spent ten minutes crying for no good reason and now she has a headache.

Sighing, she pushes open the door to her office. She frowns when she sees a cup of coffee steaming on her desk. It's not every day cups of coffee magically appear on desks. She approaches it suspiciously and finds a note. The handwriting looks sort of familiar, but she can't place it.

_It's a vanilla latte. Quit questioning and just drink it._

There's no signature. Still frowning, she takes a cautious sip. As promised, it's a vanilla latte and it's delicious. She smiles a thank you to her mysterious coffee provider.

Alex smiles from his post at the nurses' station.

0ooo0

It quickly becomes routine for him to leave her coffee, although he will leave "juju" if she has a big surgery. She still hasn't placed the handwriting, and he's careful not to let her see his. So the handwritten note may not have been the safest idea for his secret identity, but he hadn't exactly planned on it being anything more than a onetime thing.

She appreciates the coffee and she appreciates whoever is leaving it for her. "Karev," she calls, "I have a surgery in ten minutes. You want in?"

"Yeah, sure," he agrees, falling into step with her.

"Okay, I need you to go get the test results for Mrs. Franz first. Meet me in OR 2."

As they round the corner, they run into Derek and Meredith. Alex pushes a hesitant Addison past them and down the hallway. "Scale of one to ten, how bad?" he asks.

She has a flashback to the first day she ever realized that Alex Karev has a heart. She's quiet for a moment, inspecting the pain he's asking about. "Three," she says, starting to grin. "Maybe two."

He smiles back at her. "That's good. That's really good."

"Yeah," she replies. They look at each other in silence for a moment, and she tries to push the memory of one night months ago out of her mind.

"I should go get Mrs. Franz's results," he finally says. She nods her agreement, not trusting herself to speak.

0ooo0

"Dr. Montgomery," he says, sitting next to her at the bar.

She smiles at him, nodding her greeting. "Karev."

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," she says, brushing him off.

"The three martini glasses in front of you say otherwise."

"Who are you? My mother?" she snaps. She drags her appreciative gaze over him. "Because you most definitely do _not _look like my mother."

"You're already acting drunk," he points out. "And I've yet to see you make a good decision when you're drunk."

"So you're saying that sleeping with you was a bad decision?" she teases. Contrary to his thoughts, she's not drunk, she's _tipsy_. The big difference between Tipsy Addison and Drunk Addison is that Tipsy Addison knows when to shut up. "Because I'm not so sure." Well, most of the time.

He laughs, trying to cover up the fact that his heart actually skipped a beat at that. So much for the whole ignoring the caring thing. "Really?" he asks nonchalantly.

"Are you my coffee man?" she asks suddenly.

"What?"

"Someone keeps leaving me coffee and it's really nice. And you're the only person who's nice to me now, so I'm thinking that maybe it's you."

"Hm," he hums noncommittally.

"Oh my God, it so is!" Addison crows. "You're my coffee man!"

"Maybe," he says.

"Thank you," she replies. "I appreciate it."

"I'm glad."

She studies him suspiciously when she hears the tone in his voice. "Why, Alex Karev, do you have a thing for me?" She laughs and it's the first time he's ever heard her sound so carefree. She stops when she notices that not only is he not laughing, he's staring. "You're not laughing," she accuses him.

"No," he says.

"Oh my God," she breathes. "I'm _right_!"

He doesn't answer. He doesn't want to answer. As long as he doesn't actually have to admit to anything, he's absolutely fine with her drawing her own conclusions.

"I'm right," she repeats quietly. The alcohol has started to take its effects and Sober Addison is warily watching Tipsy Addison's actions from somewhere in the back of her mind. She can't decide if she totally approves of Tipsy Addison leaning in and kissing him, but Tipsy Addison does it anyways.

He pulls away. "You're drunk."

"I'm not drunk, I'm tipsy," she clarifies.

"Either way," he says.

"Right," she sighs and lays her head on the table. She lies still for a moment but then sits back up. "I'm going to remember this is the morning. How humiliating. I'm not nearly drunk enough."

And then he smiles and leans in close. "What if I want you to remember?"

"You _do _have a thing for me!"

"I feel like we just had this conversation."

She looks at him seriously and he's surprised at how sober she looks. "_I _had this conversation. You didn't contribute anything."

"What are you asking, Addison?"

"I'm asking why you've been leaving me coffee for the past three months."

He shrugs. "It seemed like you needed it."

She nods. "I did," she admits quietly. After a pause, she asks, "So what does that mean for us? I mean, are you just my coffee guy or what?"

He's not ready for that question to be asked and he's not prepared to answer, so he doesn't. They sit in silence until he gets up. "I'll see you tomorrow," he says. She looks a little hurt that he's getting up and leaving her, but he knows it's for the best.

0ooo0

She approaches her office, biting her lip in trepidation. What if her morning coffee isn't there?

She opens the door and beams when she sees a steaming cup of coffee on her desk. Quickly, she picks it up and notices a note lying on her desk, just like the first time.

_I want to be more than your coffee guy._

Nine words are all it takes for her to lose her breath. And when she's regained the ability to breathe, she turns around to see him standing in the door and loses it all over again.

She manages to formulate a complete sentence in about ten seconds. "I hope you realize this doesn't put you off coffee duty," she says.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he laughs.

She looks serious and waves her finger so he knows to come closer. When he does, she kisses him softly. "Just wanted to see if it was as good sober," she says with a smirk, by way of an explanation.

"Oh please," he scoffs, "you've been lusting after me since before you got divorced."

Her smirk falls right off her face. "You remember that," she winces.

"And I'm not going to forget it either."

She groans and he grins. "Face it, Addison," he says right before kissing her. "You're screwed."

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**Hopefully you liked it! (Possibly even enough to leave me a review? *Cough, cough* Wow, I think the subtlety trait just completely skipped over me.)**

**-Juli-**


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